Code Black
by Foul Fountain of Flies
Summary: Iruka: You had to die just so you could go out with me? Geez, Kakashi-sempai. Set after the battle with Pain. Spoilers ahead. KakaIru. One shot.


Code Black

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto and its characters.

Summary: Iruka: You had to die just so you could go out with me? Geez, Kakashi-sempai. Set after the battle with Pain (spoilers ahead). KakaIru. One shot.

A/N: This just came out of nowhere, no plot, no action whatsoever. I thought the recent chapters of the manga finally amounted to something and yes, glad to see the guy breathing again. Spoilers, though.

* * *

There are muscles twitching spasmodically a little under his right eye; small, almost unnoticeable movements he couldn't control no matter how much they really have something to do with his body.

He sighs. Perhaps this would make the twitch a bit less felt. Outside his room's window a flutter of wind causes the branches to swing from side to side. The sky, or at least a little visible part of it, is close to sapphire blue. Everything else is green. Everything is undeniably alive again. Everything is back to normal.

Except for one thing, and this one thing is something even Pain could not revert. Perhaps this is what makes those muscles twitch uncontrollably, along with the thought of it and the threat of what is about to come from it. He heaves another sigh. No, he shouldn't appear this distracted to his subordinates, not when he just succeeded in reassuring them that no such thing shall ever happen to Konoha again. He has promised, and he means to keep it. Alone in this thought, he begins concentrating instead on regaining a rather recently lost peace of mind.

"Kakashi Taicho?"

"..."

"Kakashi Taicho!"

"What?!"

"The clock just struck 12."

"Oh, alright... session dismissed." he says quietly as the room begins to rustle with hurried movements, the Anbu leaving as noisily as they came.

Chin propped up on his palm, thoughts that never before crossed his head start darting through in droves. Not one of them seems to indicate any end to this restlessness; if anything, they amplify the familiar drumbeat of confusion. A chaotic day waits ahead.

Twelve o'clock pm.

It has been three days since Konoha went down in ashes, taking with it the better part of the population he has all his life sworn to protect. He had died in its defense, too, and was snatched back to life on the same day by powers beyond his understanding. Resurrection. Does it bring people closer to invincibility? He got up from his seat at the sound of his stomach grumbling like a strained engine. Nope, resurrection only gives people a second chance: It doesn't immunize them from the small imperfections the body has to encounter on a daily basis. Hunger and thirst, for instance. Indeed, a second chance. Nothing more, nothing less.

He then gradually begins tracing his way to the part of the city where Naruto's favorite ramen stand is. He had initially meant to take somebody, anyone, with him but for reasons he didn't bother finding out none of them is to be available at lunchtime. He continues at a moderate pace, feeling on the very little exposed portion of his skin the mild stabs of sunlight. In his field of vision, as far as he's concerned, everything is as perfect as it ever was. He's alive, and he's happy to be alive, to be touching the ground once again, to be hearing through enhanced senses the flaps of breeze against his face. In fact, everything is running a smooth course. That is, until he sees up ahead the familiar figure of that person materializing.

Iruka. Umino Iruka.

It's now too late to change his course or otherwise dive out of sight. He has seen Iruka's expression of acknowledgment, even from yards off, and understood right away that the Chuunin expects a return greeting. Even if it's just for a split second, crossing paths with this person, for Kakashi, is not bound to be just a walk in the park. More than anything, the sentiment is one-sided.

Twelve-fifteen pm.

Iruka's clean shaven face gives nothing more than a faint smile of acknowledgement. No syllable escapes his lips, not even a mere extended glance. Kakashi Hatake grits his teeth evenly. He has seen that smile on the faces of people he's not acquainted with, people who only know him by name and fame, people who are sure to say "Oh," and stride callously past him if he ended up dead on the stakes the very next minute. There on that small square meter of earth where their roads intersect, Kakashi has felt the most piercing pang of hunger known to his existence.

"Aren't you going to say something to me?" Kakashi says, rounding on the Chuunin just as Iruka's steps move past him.

"What is it, Kakashi-sempai?" Iruka responds. A little hint of shock dawns on his face: he has never seen Kakashi take on such a strange behavior.

"What, did Pain's minions smack you that hard on the skull that you can't remember anything?" Kakashi snaps and feels the remarkable rise in his temper. He knows, too, having gone this far, that it's too late to hold it back in.

"Oh!" A flicker of recollection descends on Iruka now and he begins grinning guiltily. "Yes, well, I semi-congratulate you on being nominated as the Sixth Hokage. Too bad Danzo-sama had to get the post--"

"Iruka, if you were any slower you'd be going right where you are." Underneath his mask, Kakashi's nostrils are already flaring. "Need I remind you that I literally died that day?"

"Oh... so that's it. I suppose I should say I'm sorry and that I welcome you back to the Living World. Though, you know, I'm pretty sure you already had your share of warm reception: they all glorify you now as a true hero of Konoha." Iruka smiles again, nearly making a motion to pat the Jounin's shoulder, as Kakashi's painful efforts fail, yet again, to deliver the goods.

Kakashi looks daggers at the Chuunin. He's at a loss for any idea now how to pull through out of this conversation, let alone to pin it down to this person in front of him what he wants to be heard. It would have been a thousand times nicer, actually, if Iruka volunteers those words himself. But for the past three days since the village's rebirth, in the countless times since then that he and Kakashi passed each other everywhere, there seemed to be only oblivion and indifference in Iruka. The only way around it, as Kakashi sees it now, is to be plain and direct. It could hurt, but it can't remain unsaid forever all the same.

"If you happen to recall one of these days that I came between you and Pain when he was this close to sucking that miserable soul out of you, you might find the words that you should've said to me ages ago. And yes, if I may so spell it out, I SAVED YOUR LIFE. I did. What, not thrilled by the news? Just where in the world does anyone save another's life for free? Now don't go pushing your luck further and say it." Soon as Kakashi finishes, he starts to wish that he just shot his mouth off when he had the chance_. Now I AM the idiot._ So much for coming out strong.

Iruka stares it at him in a manner so bewildered and defiant that Kakashi begins to feel a wave of shame overwhelm him. He shakes his head, wondering where he still gets the energy to stand there and show half himself.

"Kakashi-sempai..."

"Don't get the idea that I'm pulling ranks on you or that I want to be seen as a hero. I just expected a comrade to be more thankful."

"On the contrary, those are very far from my thoughts."

"And what do you think, Iruka?"

"I'm thinking I would still be standing here either way, just like you are. Whether you saved me or not, I would be brought back to life through Naruto's efforts. I thanked him, rather profusely, afterward. Whatever business I have with the shadow of Pain, I cast away along with the Konoha that died that day."

"So that's your view? That my death wouldn't have affected you anyway?" Kakashi demands. Never mind about saving face now. "You don't feel any obligation to thank me and you're not going to in the light of what's just been said?"

"Well, if you went about it differently, I suppose I could find a remedy."

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" At this point, Kakashi is gone totally spare.

"You don't act like a person deserving of thanks. But hey, you shouldn't have bothered saving me if it should come to this; then you wouldn't have gotten hurt and died."

"You're one ungrateful sitting duck, aren't you? Are you suggesting that I unnecessarily dug my own grave?"

"If that's the way you want to put it, Kakashi-sempai."

Kakashi glares at Iruka. The heat around them thickens, intensifying with each second ticking by. Or else it's just Kakashi's boiling concoction of emotions giving off sparks hotter than fire. He has never witnessed himself this angry before, leave aside its being out of something as inconsequential as an unuttered magic phrase: Thank you, Kakashi-sempai. But at the present, all his talents for arguing just went phut. Against Kakashi, as it occurs to him now, Iruka would always have the upper hand.

"Do you have any idea what it was like being dead, leaving your own desecrated body under a pile of stupid rocks you used to call your home? Or maybe I need to make you feel it first, so you would know?" Kakashi seethes menacingly, his Sharingan glowing furiously red under the bright sunlight. He could feel its movements for the kill, uncontrollable movements that leave no room for either reason or mercy. Like the monstrous thing in his belly, his Sharingan is making the move toward its prey.

"Knock it off, sempai. What good would murdering me do? What's worth kicking up this kind of fuss for those words that are most likely just meaningless crap to someone like you?" Iruka protests, finally holding his own against this far stronger creature in front of him. Among other things, he seems fearless. "Okay, I say thank you for saving my life and mean it with all my heart, is that going to change anything? Is it going to promote you or something or make you Hokage?"

"So that's how you see me? That's how low and cheap you think I am? Frankly, I'm disgusted by your way of thinking." Kakashi mumbled. Since when did he ever think of his shinobi career as a mercenary type of thing? "You... you don't know anything."

"You're right, I don't know anything." Iruka, too, is looking like all his patience has just gone down the drain. "I don't understand why this is such a big deal to you. You don't normally require thanks from your students or from anyone who's got help from you, right? You used to see it as a responsibility, no feelings involved and all. After the mission, you can go on by without hearing any word from anybody, and that's all pretty fine, right? That's alright, so why would you bother this much about me?"

Twelve-thirty pm.

There is a pause, silence stretching forward to the other end of the timeline. Molecules suspend in the air, in threat of exploding at the merest touch. And recollections, painful ones that are too hideous to keep, come swerving back to Kakashi. They have invaded his consciousness, each one of them outstanding in its meaning, each of them involving Iruka Umino. If only he could interpret them for Iruka's benefit, he would; if only Iruka would meet his thoughts halfway.

"You indifferent, ungrateful sonuvabitch." Kakashi bursts, ultimately. "You clueless, whiny, insufferable twit!"

"Okay, sempai, this is it. I have no response to this kind of vocabulary. Goodbye," Iruka says, wheeling around and leaving the scene.

"God, you don't know how to do anything but to send me to pieces, do you? You brat. I saved you and this is what I get?" Kakashi goes on in hysterics. "I practically sacrificed my life in order for you to survive, do you even realize that? Or are you just deliberately keeping yourself in the dark? I DON'T KNOW WHAT I SEE IN YOU! I DON'T KNOW WHAT MAKES ME LIKE YOU THIS MUCH! Hell, you're not even good-looking! Would've served you right to get killed by that Necro-fucker! Yes, that's right!"

"Sempai, get a grip--"

"I was foolish enough to think that things would rub off on you if I finally did something to make you notice. But no! You just went on acting like some dumb cowshit and now I have to fucking spell the whole thing out because you can never ever figure things out on your own. Crap! Why do I always have to set the wrong foot with you anyway?"

"Sempai, will you keep it down? You are being so out of character." Iruka is now studying him with a calmness that, to a trained eye, seems totally fake. Several passersby have since then begun casting them curious glances. Iruka smirks in a completely uncharacteristic manner, "Regardless, can you repeat that part about sacrificing your life so I could live?"

"Shut up." Kakashi is now panting. "And after all that I'm still the one who has hell to pay. Hell."

Twelve forty-five pm.

"You had to die just so you could go out with me? Geez, Kakashi-sempai."

"Quit flattering yourself, brat." Kakashi shoots back, guilty as charged. "How are you going to make amends for my death? Grow a conscience?"

Iruka ignores his comment. "To your credit, that was quite refreshing. I had no idea it could actually be... that. But you know, you didn't have to go through all that to get to me."

"Like hell I don't. You're just a cruel, clueless, smug-faced sucker. I'd get the first refusal straight off to be sure."

"Nah. All you had to do is ask."

Kakashi's eyes narrow. Something hard and heavy, perhaps an invisible anvil, has landed straight down from the heavens all the way to the top of his head. Sometimes, even if it's just imaginary, realizations can hit that hard.

"Let me get the picture clear: You wouldn't refuse if I ask you out on a date?"

"Of course not. I couldn't have. Why would I?"

"You're shitting me." Kakashi says, not knowing whether to be impressed or incredulous at Iruka's swift and easy declaration.

"I'm not. I'm single and have free time: You're popular and have good pay. What could be the obstacle?"

"And I'm the mercenary, you shameless utilitarian. Good grief." Then from knit eyebrows and cramped eyelids, Kakashi's eyes go wide-open, "You mean to say I didn't have to..."

"What? Get yourself killed and be resurrected? Nope, that wasn't needed. You rushed into things without even thinking of the easier alternatives, which are plenty by the way."

"Holy shit. Holy mother of sweet Jesus Christ." Kakashi's voice is faint, far away.

"I've been meaning to tell you just that from the start. I would've told you then before you jumped the gun."

In theory, Kakashi Hatake is a sane and respectable man with a pride to match and preserve. Today, however, he is just a stark contrast to his usual self: hungry, humbled, and in love. Might as well be on his knees, too.

"So moving on, Iruka, will you go out with me?"

"Sure, no need to be so formal about it."

Then as if unable to hold itself back any longer, unable to stand being ignored further, Kakashi's stomach begins to grumble violently.

"I'm going to eat lunch." Kakashi excuses himself and starts to amble toward the ramen stand's direction.

"Well, this delivery is an hour overdue." Iruka says, fishing out a piece of envelope from his pocket. "I guess I'll see you then."

"Right." Kakashi replies. "By the way, are you free tomorrow night, eight p.m.?"

"Sure, Kakashi."

"Great." Kakashi mutters in relief. _That wasn't so hard_. "And just one thing: if you wanna go out with me, be sure you play by the rules."

"Rules?"

"Don't be late. If you're late by one minute I'm gonna Mangekyou Sharingan your ass."

It's now Iruka's turn to shake his head. "Yare, yare..." he's sourced out from Naruto's complaints and rants that Kakashi is one to never be caught arriving on time. At least, not by an hour's margin.

Both Shinobi part ways as the soil they just stood on starts to seem to breathe easily, an entire hour's worth of tension released. The clouds clear out, fold after fold, to give way to the bluest sky of the year. The sun beats like a bright living thing, like a heart. The time is one o'clock pm. Out of Iruka's earshot, Kakashi smirks to himself,

"Brace yourself for the wildest night of your life, Chuunin."

END


End file.
